


The Light

by Mel_Sanfo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_Sanfo/pseuds/Mel_Sanfo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Medieval/Fantasy AU~  </p><p>In a world ruled by Kings, protected by knights and threatened by evil Dukes, a Princess will rise and fight to save her people.</p><p>~Medieval/Fantasy AU~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once upon a time...

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU story.  
> The first chapter is pretty much the background story.  
> And to be completely honest, I have no idea what I'm doing BUT I have had this idea in my head for a while so here it is. I WAS trying to write the next chapter for Masquerade but ended up writing this instead and figured why not start another story to continue AFTER Masquerade is done?  
> As usual, I don't OWN Arrow (Just the Funko Pop of Arrow) and all mistakes are my own!

 

Many decades ago a treaty was forged between the three kingdoms of the West, approved by the High King of the Americas. The kingdom of Starling, The kingdom of the North and the kingdom of the Nevadas, all became allies to better protect the West. The Starling kingdom and the kingdom of the North mostly taking care of the shoreline while the kingdom of the Nevadas took care of the in land passages. The treaty brought peace and prosperity to all kingdoms for a long, long time and it was kept by ways of both loyalty and solidarity.

Robert, King of Starling. Raymond, King of the North and William, King of the Nevadas were all good kings, good men and more importantly good friends. They had all grown up together, sheltered by the treaty of peace of the West and they all wanted the treaty to be upheld as part of their legacy, for many more generations to come. And so it was agreed, between the three kings and friends, that in order to make the treaty even stronger their kingdoms should be united also by marriage. Make it so that the West would become more than three factions, it would be but one family.

The King of the North was the first to become a father, his wife had a son and he was named after the king himself, Raymond the Second, heir to the kingdom of the North. The birth was celebrated throughout all the Western lands. William followed, only a year or so later, his Queen gifting him a beautiful daughter they named Annabelle, Anna for short; she was betrothed immediately to the heir of the North with the blessing of the High King. Robert was last to be granted offspring, but he too had a son, one he and his wife named Oliver. He was the future King of Starling.

A few years passed and the hopes had dimmed that there’d be another offspring from the royals. The heir to the North already had his bride to be but the heir of Starling remained unattached, many believed (and feared) the young Prince would end up betrothed to a Princess from outside the Western kingdoms and the treaty would be at risk.

Then, on a cold spring morning both the King of Starling and the King of the North got word, via messenger, that a child had been born to the King of the Nevadas, another daughter. In the missives the messenger delivered, King William explained his hesitance to inform his two friends. He told them that the pregnancy had been extremely difficult on the Queen and many of his medics had feared it would not be a viable one. So he had decided to wait and let nature dictate whether there would be elation or mourning for the kingdoms. There had even been fears that his Queen and child would both be lost during the birth, if the child was indeed carried to term. But then the mother and daughter had survived and the child, who brought with it such happiness, after so many months of fears and worries, was named Felicity.

The heir of Starling was betrothed at the age of 4 to the new princess and the people of the West started calling princess Felicity ‘The light of the Nevadas’.

Every year the three kings arranged to meet, along with their families. That way the kings could discuss their work of the land and for the High King, their wives could catch up, as they were all friends, while the children could interact with one another. To everyone’s delight the heir of the Northern kingdom, Ray for short, took an instant liking to his intended; the kings and queens called it ‘young love’ and since they were so close in age they were joined at the hip all the time, getting into mischief and exploring whichever castle the kings had agreed to meet upon.

The heir to Starling, however, was very much annoyed that the first time he met his bride to be she was nothing but a bundle of fabric, a scrunched up red angry face and a pair of very strong lungs that cried incessantly instead of someone he could already play with. It would be a few years before Oliver warmed up to the idea of his bride but once the princess was able to walk, to run and was chasing him and his friend, Thomas of the Merlyn line, down corridors the three of them became a unit.

As many friendships do theirs was off to a rocky start. Thomas was uneasy about it, at first. Jealous that the small Princess would take away the attention of his best friend he devised a plan. When he, innocently (on purpose), tripped her by the side of the lake, in order to give Oliver a head start in their game of chase only to have the Prince himself shove him to the ground and aid the crying Princess back to her feet Thomas knew there was more to it and how wrong he had been.

It was Oliver who convinced his friend that, as a future knight, it was his duty to protect and the Princess, when she was with them, was theirs to keep safe. When the nursemaid, who had been distractedly setting up a picnic nearby, came over having heard the crying all the children were in accord regarding their lie. Both Thomas and Felicity had fallen but they were unharmed.

After that Thomas became just Tommy to the little Princess with the big blue eyes and brown hair, which seemed to be growing lighter and lighter by the day. And the terrible trio? After that day it was a friendship that could not be undone.

Years later the peace for the three kingdoms wavered.

With the king of the North falling dangerously ill the time table for the marriage between Annabelle and the heir to the Northern kingdom was moved up. Luckily for the pair to wed they had been in love with one another since they could speak and walk so it was far more than a marriage of convenience.

The king of Starling had remained in his kingdom, forced to stay there as there was news of a possible threat from the sea, but he had sent his son, his young daughter Theadora and his Queen to represent their kingdom to the upcoming Royal wedding.

The heir of Starling was now 15 years old. He had grown tall, handsome and charming. Though he seemed aloof and uncaring towards others he always had a soft place in his heart reserved for the girl that would one day become his bride and when they were together it showed. He was kinder, gentler and better behaved whenever he was close to Princess Felicity.

Their childhood shenanigans had diminished in the later years, as their parents became more strict towards their education and how they were to present themselves but the trio, Tommy was always included in the mischief (sometimes he led it!), had a specific place in every single castle they visited where they could meet in secret.

It was the night before they traveled to the North and the trio met each other in the old, now forgotten, nursery of Merlyn Castle. All of the furniture was covered up but there was a fireplace going which kept the room warm, the first brushes of fall staining the air with chill.

And it was there that the youngest princess of the Nevadas met up with her two friends. They discussed their traveling arrangements, disgruntled that for the sake of security all carriages were taking different routes to get to the Northern kingdom and they would be traveling separately. With Felicity traveling along her sister while Oliver traveled with his family and Tommy with his father, Sir Malcolm Merlyn.

Just before they were to part ways for the night Oliver made them all pause. He asked for Tommy to serve as witness and in a room with barely any light he held the hand of the girl who had been his friend since her own birth and gave her a ring he had made especially for her with a small emerald embedded into the gold band. He explained that he knew it was crude work; that his metalworking skills were not the best but that the ring stood as promise. He would become better, in all ways that mattered, so that in their wedding day he could remove that ring and exchange it for a better one.

That night Thomas Merlyn witnessed more than a ring being given, he also witnessed his best friend finally letting go and granting his heart over to the girl who he had loved for years on end as well as a small chaste touch of lips between his two friends, a kiss that sealed the promise of love to be fulfilled in their later years.

 But the future can be a fickle thing.

The Merlyn’s arrived only a day after the Starling royal family had made it to the Northern kingdom and it was to find it in a complete disarray. The king had died in his sleep the night before and in the morning one of the guards from the caravan that carried the future Queen of the Northern kingdom, as well as her younger sister, had arrived in horseback badly wounded announcing with his last breaths that the carriage had been attacked while in transit and there were no survivors.

When the guards sent to the location the guard from the Nevadas had given, before his passing, returned the news were verified. The whole caravan had been decimated and burned. There were too many bodies, the horses and humans had perished alongside one another, unrecognizable in their burnt state.

It was the chief’s guard words towards Raymond the Second, who had been crowned King after his father’s passing, that made Tommy’s blood run cold.

“If anyone managed to survive the initial attack, your highness, they were surely taken by the attackers. However, having seen the carnage left behind I highly doubt anyone survived long enough to live through such fate.”

On that fateful day, where there was supposed to be a feast preceding a wedding planned for the next morning, the three kingdoms of the West mourned the loss of a good King and two Princesses who had been plucked too early in life by death’s touch.

It was also the day the heart of the Prince of Starling grew cold.

After that things got progressively worse for the West. Similar attacks to the one that claimed the lives of the Princesses happened all along the roads for months after, dividing the attention of the peace keepers and guards who investigated the happenings. King William of the Nevadas lost himself in the mourning for his daughters and committed suicide only a few months later, submerged in his grief and madness, leaving the Queen to rule. Attackers arrived from the seas, forcing the Starling kingdom and the kingdom of the North to go to arms against them; both Oliver and Tommy heading into battle at the tender age of 16.

But what no one knew was that the enemy was already in land. Waiting. And the kingdom of the Nevadas was ripe for the picking.

It took years for the ultimate move on the chessboard to take place. By then Sir Malcolm was long dead, Thomas Merlyn was the champion knight of Starling and the Prince had been lost, supposedly taking on the life of a traveling knight, never having recovered from the loss of his bride to be. The High King was busy, waging war in one of the lower continents to heed the need for aid from the West and it was only after the Queen of the Nevadas was forced to run to the safety of the Starling kingdom, seeking refuge there, that the plan which had been churning below the surface was unveiled. A plan that was years in the making. There was a new, self-appointed, Arch-duke that ruled the Nevadas now; he was responsible for wiping the Royal line of heirs from existence, as well as the attacks coming from the sea and he wasn’t happy with just taking over one kingdom, he planned to expand and rule over the whole West.

The peace that had been enjoyed through the West for decades shattered even more during his reign of tyranny yet, after a few years there was a spark of hope.

Rumors started rumbling in taverns and inns, murmured by workers, farmers and former soldiers alike, the people of the Nevadas passing on the idle chat on to whoever would listen in order to keep themselves sane and biding their time, praying that more people would heed the words that had been told to them.

There was a resistance building based on two sentences. Eight words that could bring a false leader to his knees.

The light is alive. The light **is** coming...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, you can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr.  
> @Melmo2010 and https://www.tumblr.com/blog/melsanfo  
> Come say hi!


	2. The council meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord that cried 'Wolf' gets what's coming to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, I don't own Arrow and all mistakes are my own.

Roy Harper was a simple man.

He had been taught by his father, from an early age that having many things and holding onto them tightly only served to shackle a person down so things did not have the same meaning to him as they did to most people, especially some particular members of the council. The way he saw it things could be broken, stolen and replaced. Metal, wood, fabric, whatever the case may be, if it could be bought or sold he did not care much for it, unless it was an animal of some sort. There was always something that would appear to be better, always something a person would want more than the thing that they had. Something to tie themselves to. 

He was not that kind of man. 

He had his tasks, his accomplishments, his secrets and that was more than enough for him. Even though he was younger than any other man on the town’s council, he had earned the respect that it took to be a part of it, being the preferred armor and weapons smith for the King of the North did have it’s benefits, after all. He had his own home, his own forge, a few animals for his homestead and some people under his employ to keep everything running smoothly.

Simple. Just the way he liked it.

Something that Roy did not like was being pulled from his hard work, in the middle of the day, to attend an emergency council meeting. It was winter, the snow was everywhere, though it had stopped falling for a time and he appreciated the warmth of his forge more than he probably should. Instead he’d had to trudge his way to the law centre in town, where all meetings were held and sit through what seemed to be nothing but another long and hard monologue by Lord Bert.

All other council members were enraptured by the man’s tale of how he had found spies on his land, huddled in one of his barns, just waiting for the right moment to strike and bring all kinds of evil to their small village. Well, all but Lord West, the council head and one of the most level headed and fair men Roy had ever had the pleasure of knowing. His stoic expression as he listened to Lord Bert rant could have very much won some or of price in Roy’s opinion.

In the center of the room, which was surrounded by guards, were two men, both of them on their knees; their weapons lying a few feet before them. One of them was burdened with so many chains and different kinds of restraints on him that it made Roy wonder just how much of a threat the man was. Then again Lord Bert, who had ‘detained’ them in the first place, was known for his paranoid ways, which explained the heavy wooden beam strapped to the man’s back.

The man’s face was unfortunate, very unfortunate indeed. The cleft lip gave him an almost feral look, which wasn’t helped any by the scowl he wore. His tanned colored skin was marred with scars, as if from a fire, on the one side of the face only and on the other there were bumps under the skin, so many that his one eye was almost swollen shut because of them. Oh but how those blue eyes burned! The fire in them would have been wonderful for Roy’s forge, if it had been possible. 

The unfortunate man had a hooded cloak, a green one. The hood had been pulled back for his 'appearance' before the council. Tufts of sandy blonde hair, sporadically sprouting all over his scarred scalp were in display to those present. He had wide shoulders under layers and layers of clothes, the shoulders of a working man, Roy noted, Same thing he recognized on the calloused hands, bound to the wooden beam, and the strong looking legs. They were all signs of a hardworking man. 

His companion was dark of skin, even burlier than the man, with finer clothing, a nicer cloak in blue and calm demeanor. He was simply bound at the wrists and though he was doing his best to stay upright while kneeling Roy could see the sweat beading his forehead and how he swayed, almost imperceptibly.

As a weapon’s smith, Roy had payed close attention to those when the guards had set them on the floor, far more than anyone else in the room. There were always clues in people’s weapons… and he knew, from them alone, that if they were the true owners of those weapons they were not spies.

“I am telling you!” Lord Bert was repeating. “These two are spies. No question about it!”

Lord Francis Bert was a man who liked his seat of power in the community. He was also the one person in the village that cried ‘spy’ whenever he could. He was slight of build, with dark blond hair and green eyes. He was always impeccably dressed, wearing only the finest fashions from the capital of the Northern Kingdom and doted excessively on his only daughter, Helena.

To Roy he was a peacock without its colorful tail.

“Well, that is an argument we have not heard before.” Roy huffed out, allowing his leather boots to drop down from the table before him with a thump on the wooden floors, standing up right afterwards. “No, I take it back. That is the same argument we have heard, countless times before, including when my father found his way up here. And you, M’lord, were the first one trying to get everyone else to pick up their weapons and pitchforks against him, even when he had me and my sister with him. An obvious mistake that a spy would never do. Tell me, how did that turn out again?” He asked tapping his chin with his forefinger for a moment, as if in thought. “Ah, yes. My father proved not to be a spy, only an widower looking for a new life for himself and his children.”

“A misunderstanding at the time.” Lord Bert sputtered, red in the face.

“Of course. Be that as it may, pegging everyone who happens to stumble onto our village as a spy is nothing but tiresome. Strangers? Yes. But spies? All of them? We have heard that way too many times before and every single time it has been the wrong assumption.” Roy said, stretching his arms above his head lazily before letting them cross over his chest. “It is not news that people are seeking refuge in the North, just like my father did years ago. If this is how we are going to welcome every single one of them...Well, we might want to rethink how we treat our new imports.” He added with a roguish grin. “I, for one, have work that needs to be done, so if we could just agree that these two men are probably nothing but strangers to the land and be on our way…”

“They are spies!” Lord Bert yelled in exasperation.

“What proof of this do you have, M’lord?” Lord West asked, calmly. “Mister Harper brings up a valid point. We all have been made aware of the influx of refugees to the North as of late.”

“Why would they be hiding in my barn, stealing from me, if they were not?!”

“Spies would have resources.” The man without the scars said.

“Excuse me?” Lord West asked, getting to his feet and coming around the table to stand in front of the man that spoke.

“Spies. They would have resources. They would infiltrate your village seamlessly, without being noticed by anyone, place themselves within your everyday lives, quite possibly in a position of power and learn the routines, gaining information and waiting for the right moment to act on whatever orders they have. They would not be hiding in barns.” The man explained, calmly, lifting his head to look at Lord West. “Something I tried to explain before our detainment but was… ill received.”

“Is that so?” Lord West asked, glancing towards Lord Bert, who was once again sputtering.

“Yes, M’lord.” The man replied respectfully. “My name is Sir John Diggle. I am a wandering Knight from the kingdom of Starling. The man kneeling by me is my traveling companion, Jonas.”

“Starling, you say?” Lord West asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Explains the weapons.” Roy offered the head of the council, without missing a beat.

“Yes, Sir.” Sir Diggle offered with a nod of his head, which caused him to tilt to the side precariously right after.

“For God’s sake, we are not spies! We hid in the barn and we killed two chickens for food, yes, but only because of the blizzard that was upon us and his being sick. Can you, fools, not see that!?” The scarred one, Jonas, demanded in a growl, trying to move in his restraints and making them rattle in an attempt to catch the swaying man but Lord West was already there, with his hands on the knight’s shoulders. 

“This man is burning up.” Lord West said immediately, glancing at Jonas before shifting his gaze towards the guards. “Release him. **Now**. Take him to Miss Snow, so she can tend to him.”

“West, you cannot..!” Lord Bert exclaimed indignantly.

But the guards were already moving. They made quick work of releasing Sir Diggle’s wrists and helping him to his feet. When the man swayed again on his feet the two guards came to his aid immediately, one guard under each arm they nodded towards the leader of the council and then removed the knight from the room.

“ **NO**!” Lord West boomed, turning to face Lord Bert with collected fury in his eyes, “You had every chance to make this right but your paranoia forces us, yet again, to a meeting where there is nothing but diatribe on your part and for what? So we can be fed even more fear about spies that do not exist? Enough is enough, Bert!”

The way that Lord Francis Bert blanched made Roy cough in order to hide a chuckle. The head of the council losing his temper over yet another unnecessary meeting was as priceless as it was unheard of and the fact that he had not resorted to his usually more diplomatic ways with the wayward Lord was a sight to be seen. It was about time, in Roy’s opinion, that someone knocked that man a peg or two.

“You refused, **REFUSED** , to listen to these men and their explanations before you detained them, without good cause and brought them here, so now you **WILL** listen to me instead. That man,” he said, pointing towards the door the guards had used to take Sir Diggle out of the room, “IS sick, just like his companion said and he will get the care that he needs. **THAT** will be dealt with first!” He stated, motioning for another set of guards to move towards Jonas. “As for your chickens...”

“Oh, for the love of God.” Roy exclaimed, rolling his eyes and taking out a few coins from his coin pouch, approaching the sullen looking Lord. “I will gladly pay for the dead animals, as long as we can call this ridiculous meeting over and done with. Here,” He added, taking great effort not to slap the coins onto Lord Bert’s hand too hard. “You have your money, the men are not here to kill us and are no longer in your property. Can we all just go about our normal lives now?”

“I am dismissing this council meeting.” West said at once, keeping his eyes on Lord Bert as he swept from the room in a huff.

Roy had moved towards the weapons, ignoring not only the sulking Lord but also all other council men, the 4 of them, as they milled around. The muttering of this having been a waste of their time was something that Roy knew very well so he did not even bother with paying much attention to their yammering as they walked out in a group. He was more interested in corroborating his suspicions on the weapons and was inspecting them curiously, without touching them, crouched before the knight’s sword while the guards did their best to remove all the restrains from the scarred Jonas, including the wooden beam from his back which thunked heavily onto the floor once released.

“Harper.” West said, coming to stand before him, waiting patiently for the young man to stand before continuing. “I am appointing this man to you as your ward while we send word to Starling. We need to verify their identities and their reason for being here, if we are to have peace from Bert any time soon.” He said, pointing towards Jonas who was now free of his bonds.

“I will be no one’s prisoner.” Jonas growled, immediately, while stretching his neck by moving it in a circle.

The man towered over Roy and his monstrous demeanor, plus his sourly attitude, did nothing in his favor, however the younger man was not cowed. Instead he turned his attention from the disfigured man towards the head of the council and then back again, measuring him from head to toe with his eyes.

“You would rather go back to that barn then?” Harper asked curiously “By all means, suit yourself.”

“Now, now.” The head of the council said with a sigh, lifting one of his hands in a placating manner. “No one said anything about being a prisoner, Mister…”

“Just Jonas is fine.” The man offered in a grunt, lifting his hood back into place, the shadow of it covering his face all the way down to the tip of his nose.

“The way I see it, Jonas, you owe this man some money, since he so kindly paid for those chickens you killed. There is also the matter of your companion, Sir Diggle, being treated by the Medicine woman on the village, which will incur in some more charges that cannot be avoided. Now, I know you would not have hidden in that barn long enough to be discovered if you had other means to find shelter. So, please, take the good fortune that is on your side, Jonas. Mister Harper here has lost some workers due to the men going off to the war.” He added.

“Force labor, then.” Jonas muttered with a derisive snort.

“Like I said. You are free to go back to Lord Bert’s barn.” Roy quipped. “But if you would rather have a safe place to lay your head at night and food, then you will work off your debt to me and to Miss Snow in my forge.” Harper offered, folding his arms across his chest. “Unless you would rather spend the rest of your time here in the North on a cell. I am sure that could be arranged too.”

The man sighed heavily, the sound ending in a growl.

“I will work off all debt.” He agreed before turning his attention towards Lord West. “The King of the North. He can vouch for Sir Diggle and myself, he knows who we are. It will be quicker than sending a messenger back to Starling.”

“Very well.” Lord West said, nodding once, clapping Roy on the shoulder. “Give my regards to your sister, Harper.”

“Will do, M’Lord.” Harper said, bowing his head respectfully towards the older man then heading towards the door without looking back.

Having a ward placed upon him by the head of the council was not something that he was happy to deal with, however he saw it as yet another task added to his list. Once outside he lifted his own hood, the crimson red fabric of his cloak a contrast against the white landscape and the buildings around him.

“You have a sister.” Jonas said, speaking again once they were half way into their journey back to the forge.

“And you will do well to keep away from her.” Roy replied quickly, whirling around to face the taller man, his own blue eyes burning. “I will do what Lord West asked of me. Offer you board and lodging while you work off your debt with your services in the forge but make no mistake, you will stay away from my sister or I **WILL** end you. Is that understood?”

The quirk of the lips on the man was cruel, almost grotesque.

“Clear enough.” He replied.

Roy Harper was a simple man…

Unfortunately for him now he had a monstrous inconvenience appointed to him by the towns council and an inquisitive sister to keep away from the mystery that inconvenience might represent.  


	3. A visitor...maybe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy brings Oliver/Jonas home where he meets the other Harper sibling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, I don't own Arrow and all mistakes are my own.

The kingdom of the North was just as Oliver remembered it. Cold. Very, very cold.

With a sigh he stared at the walls of the entrance hall of the small home where his warden had taken him after the man had shown him to the forge where he would be working to pay off all of the debts that he and his traveling companion would incur on during their stay in the village. Roy Harper, his warden, had left him by the front door with instructions not to move from there until he could explain to the household staff, and his sister, that they would be having him in their midst.

Leaning against the doorframe he crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his hands into the folds of his cloak to keep warm from the cold that slowly seeped under the door. There was nothing to eradicate the cold grip of guilt from his stomach, however.

He should have paid closer attention to his companion’s health, instead of pushing to go forth, he thought to himself, but of course his need to reach the North before the day of the dreadful anniversary that was etched into his heart had been far greater than his common sense. It seemed that even years after he had been cursed, changed into the monster he now was, changed into Jonas, he still had not learned the lesson on how to let go of his selfishness. His pilgrimage to these parts of the Western kingdoms, every single year, in the same season, was a reminder of all that had been taken from him and how unforgiving life could be.

Just as his face and body were now.

But damn it all, he should have seen that Diggle was no good for traveling up to the North this year. He could see it perfectly now that he looked back into his memory. They had both been tired from the latest task they had taken on, as traveling knight and companion, Diggle had been worse for wear, more than the usual. Yet Oliver, _Jonas_ , had pushed and pushed. They needed to get to the North. _HE_ needed to get to the North and there were only a few days of travel left to make it there in time.

And here they were, in the Northern kingdom but in a village out of the way from their real destination. The blizzard had come out of nowhere and had forced them to seek shelter in a barn. Their horses and few possessions were still in Lord Bert’s property, now that he thought about it; he would have to find a way to let Harper or Lord West know, so they could reclaim them. It was at the barn that Oliver had realized just how dire Diggle’s situation was.

The man could not travel as feverish as he was and so they had stayed in the structure, keeping warm as best they could with the hay there and Oliver had killed two chickens in order to feed his friend and traveling companion. Those damned chickens had cost him the freedom he needed in order to go pay his respects. The thought irked him beyond belief.

Now Diggle was more than likely bed ridden in some Medicine woman’s home, getting treated for his illness and Jonas was here, in the house of his warden, waiting for the judgment he knew would come from the staff. Stares, questions and whispers would follow his arrival. It was something that he had mostly gotten used to during the time of his curse but it was, by no means, easier to handle. Not when those stares, those whispers and questions had been of a different kind not so long ago.

Four years he’d had the face and scarring of a monster. Four long years of rejection, fear and disgust filling his life. Four years when his title and his real name had meant nothing because he looked nothing like the man he used to be. Then again that man had been ugly in his own way.

One year remained to find a way to break this burden, yet he knew that the probability of doing so was none. He had angered a powerful sorceress with his self-absorbed attitude, greed and selfishness, a mistake that had cost him his good looks along with the name and privilege he had been born into. But his punishment was not done yet and the possibility of finding someone, a beautiful woman of all things, that would not only look upon his features and body without disgust, a lady of worth that would not only have to overlook his obvious misfortunes on the surface but would find enough goodness in his heart to love him and break the curse?

Yes. He knew he was doomed to remain a monster for the rest of his days. He would be Jonas forever more. Only one year left of hope before it died, to go join with what he had held dearest and closest to his heart.

“Meg!”

Harper’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, making him lift his head to look towards the entry way he had disappeared through in order to talk to his staff.

“We cannot treat him like a criminal, brother. For shame! He was appointed to you by Lord West, a refugee of sorts, we must put our best foot forward and welcome him as what he is.”

“He is my ward while he pays off his debt…”

“What he is, is a guest, brother and you cannot make me believe otherwise.”

The bickering between siblings was something he was used to, something he missed having with his own sister, who he was not allowed to see in his current state. It saddened him that he had lost so much time of watching his precious little sister grow up.

Yet another burden from the curse.

Before he knew what was happening a woman had come to a halt a few feet before him. She was small, he noticed, almost a head shorter than he was and wore a simple blue wool dress with a light blue belt around her waist; the white of her chemise showing on her shoulders. Her hair was blonde and frizzy, an unfortunate bird’s nest that blurred all around her head with its untamed volume, except for where straps of leather crisscrossed and held a contraption strapped to her head, the glass lenses in front of her eyes making the white and blue in them seem humongous and alien.

“There you are!” She said happily, as if she was greeting an old friend instead of the monster standing just beyond her front door, approaching a few more feet before dropping into a small, quick, curtsey then straightening. “Jonas, correct? Welcome to our home. Please, do forgive my brother’s rudeness, he sometimes forgets there is no need to be sourly with everyone. My name is Meg.”

Jonas was not sure what to make of the woman. She seemed to pay no mind whatsoever to his disfigurement, he knew she could see at least part of it even with his hood still in place and her warmth was far more than he expected. Way more than he deserved yet completely sincere. It was dazzling really. The situation amused him to no end also, for just beyond her shoulder Jonas could see a harrumphing Roy Harper, red in the face from his obvious displeasure.

This was exactly the kind of situation the younger man had probably wanted to avoid.

A small smirk pulled at his feral like lips, surprising Jonas and he found himself bowing his head in greeting. So THIS was the sister that he was supposed to keep away from? She was a strange little bird, for sure, but she had done the approaching, so technically their meeting was no his fault, was it?

“Thank you.” His voice was raspier than his tone had been before, even more so from his lack of talking during the day, since Harper had done most of the talking and he had no real need to reply with words, just nods and shakes of his head.

“Well, come on. It can be drafty where you are standing. Come on in and warm yourself by the fire.” She said, turning her attention to her brother. “You both must be starving. Did you tell Lyla that we have a guest, Roy?”

“He is not a guest.” The young man said through gritted teeth to which the sister ‘tsk’ed her tongue in reply, waving one of her hands in a dismissive manner.

“You and your sour attitude. I swear, it gets worse the more time you have to spend with your hammers. Am I going to have force you to stay away from the forge, for a day or two, so you can relearn how to interact with actual people?”

“Considering we have to eat I would say keeping me from my job would be a bad idea, sister.” Roy offered with an amused shake of his head, though the scowl on his face seemed to be permanent.

“There you go again. Sour, like a lemon.” The woman said with a heavy sigh. “You could at least try to make the best of the situation or else you will go grey before your time, Roy.” She offered.

“Yes, Meg, I informed the staff of our…visitor.” He acquiesced finally, coming to stand beside the woman.

With the siblings standing side by side there were certain features that Jonas could attribute to both. They were around the same height, with Harper only a few inches taller than his sister, both had blue eyes and fair skin, but that was where the similarities ended. Each child had probably taken after a parent and he wondered, momentarily, which one took after which.

“Good. I will make sure that there is enough food for another serving.” The woman, Meg, said happily and headed further into the home, through the doorway on the right, leaving the men to stand at the entrance of the home.

“No matter what just happened, my warning from earlier remains.” Harper said after a moment had gone by, as if he was making sure that his sister was no longer within hearing range. “You will stir clear of her path or I will end you.” He warned again, turning his attention back to the taller man, with steel in his spine and ice in his eyes.

“I cannot be blamed for her kind welcome.” Jonas offered with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders.

“This will be the one time an interaction such as this is allowed between you two.” The younger man offered and then motioned for him to follow, making his way into the home through the opposite doorway the woman had used.

“That will surely make for an interesting dinner.” Jonas quipped.

He was going to take Lord West’s advice to heart. He would take the good fortune that came his way and if he, unintentionally of course, managed to get under the skin of his warden for his own amusement, well, that could not be helped.

Though a bit on the small side, much smaller than the castle he used to reside at in Starling, when he still led his life using his first name, the Harper home was a good structure made out of both wood and stone. A knight’s home, almost. The main room where his warden led him had a chimney that was already burning healthily, there were a few benches and a desk with a scattering of paper with several drawings of both weapons and jewelry as well as wires of metal bent this way and that for reasons unknown to him. A few scattered tapestries and some decorations adorning along the walls.

There was a small wooden table with four wooden chairs that stood in one of the corners, already set for two people. Approaching the hearth, avoiding a small seating area, Jonas allowed the warmth to sink into his body, not bothering to remove his cloak, the way that he had seen Harper do, as he studied his surroundings. The young man seemed to prefer the color red, as his tunic was just a shade or so darker than the color of his cloak, his breeches a dark brown and his boots black.

It was the sword mounted on top of the mantle that caught Oliver’s attention. Though the kingdoms of the West all had similar styles of weapons there were small details the differed and defined their origin. The sword on top of the mantle was decidedly from the Nevadas and it made Jonas’s heart skip a beat.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught Jonas’s attention, distracting him from his study of the sword as two women came into the room. Meg and another, a slightly older woman with dark brown hair, fixed in a proper braid, wearing a dark maroon dress and an apron at her front. They were chattering softly as they worked, fixing another humble setting at the small table, a setting he belatedly realized was for him.

Apparently the sister was getting her way in having him be a guest instead of another servant to the Harper household.

“All right, come on you two, the food is ready.” Meg said after having exchanged words with the other woman who had left quietly.

Harper did not wait for him, or for the lady to sit first, going straight for the table and sitting down readily. The serving dish in the middle let out wisps of aromatic steam and the young man went for the knife to cut a chunk out of the bread right next to it.

The woman, Meg, however did not take a seat. She was watching him with interest as he stood before the fire, her head slightly tilted to the side.

“Do you need help removing your cloak, Jonas?” She asked.

The question surprised him.

Without his cloak, and the hood attached to it, his deformity would be out in the open and he was not sure if he wanted to deal with that. The shame. The stares.

“I do not think that is a good idea. I would hate to ruin Harper’s appetite.” He replied drolly, with a slight uptick of the side of his mouth.

“You, caring about my sensibilities when I have already seen it?” Harper snorted dryly. His quirked eyebrow an obvious challenge.

The man was probably sure that his horrid face would force his strange sister to finally seek to keep away from him…

“Ugh, the both of you! I swear, aside from Lyla, I am surrounded by lemons.” She said with an exaggerated tone and an amused shake of her head. “Jonas, neither my brother nor I will be offended. I assure you.” She offered, genuinely.

“Like I said, already seen it.” The grouchy young man offered.

“As I was saying.” Meg said, quelling her brother with a look. “If you can accept me with my required addition and not lose your appetite, I promise to do the same.” She added, touching the metal between the thick lenses of the contraption on her head. “If you would rather keep the cloak and hood, then that is fine too. I just thought you would be more comfortable without it, while you eat.”

Without any more words she took her seat, slapping the back of Roy’s hand and taking control of the knife he dropped in order to cut out even slices of the dark bread the young man had been attacking without any sense of finesse.

The fact that she had allowed him the choice of remaining covered after assuring him that his deformity would have no real repercussion on their dinner gathering made Jonas uncomfortable. For the four years that he’d had this marred face and body no one had ever just accepted him. No one. Even Diggle and his own family had doubted him when they first saw him. There were always stares, always someone who wanted more information as to how he had gotten to be the way he was, questions dipped in pity.

And now here he was.

Roy Harper had indeed already seen his face, since they had yanked his hood down, unceremoniously, when he and Diggle had appeared before the town council. He had to give the young man credit, he had been the only one who hadn’t reacted in any way regarding how he looked. The other men had murmured among themselves, like gossiping old women, one of them going as far as pointing at Jonas, who apparently was an unbelievable sight to that particular man while Lord Bert had preened, having captured the monster he now held before his peers. Lord West had been the only one not to comment, though his eyes had grown wide for a long moment before regaining their usual sight.

Defiance and anger made his decision for him, so he moved towards the pegs on the wall and removed his cloak, hanging it up right by Harper’s, just for added effect. Turning without pause he moved towards the table and sat straight across from the lady of the house, staring at her, waiting, wondering. What would she think of him now? Would she be just as kind to the monster clad in browns, greens and black leather boots? The answer was immediate, for she stared right back at him, without reserve and then smiled, a small uptick of her pale pink lips along with a short nod before distributing the bread she had cut for their meal. Once that task was done she took it upon herself to serve their meal, a hearty stew with vegetables and meat that smelled heavenly. She even served HIM first and for a moment he forgot that he was a monster sitting at a table with regular people.

What a strange bird indeed!

“So what is it like?” She asked, once she was done serving and Harper had already started digging into his food with gusto.

Her question force Jonas to pause, with his utensil half way to his mouth. There it was. A question about his current situation. He should have known better. No matter how eccentric the little woman was, there was no way she would have held on to her welcoming conviction.

“What is what like?” he growled, earning a harsh look from his warden.

“Starling kingdom, of course! I have never been. Not that I remember anyways, it feels as if I have always been here. Roy said you and your traveling companion are from there, so I was wondering what Starling kingdom is like.” Meg answered quickly, not even phased about the tone he had taken with her.

Jonas blue eyes flew to her once more and finding nothing but sincere curiosity he took in a deep breath. Her acceptance ramming into his chest like a battering ram. This was a woman that knew about looking unusual, due to her ‘addition’ as she put it, so she stirred clear of making things uncomfortable for him. He decided then and there that he would show appreciation towards her.

Where Roy Harper was curt and rough around the edges his sister Meg more than made up for it.

“It’s beautiful. It is not very sunny and it can rain a lot in certain parts but the thunderstorms are amazing to see.” He offered softly, taking a spoonful of his stew right afterwards, in an effort to halt the conversation.

It did not work.

He learned that night that Meg Harper was very talkative. She actually carried all of the conversation throughout dinner, with him and Harper only participating a few times as she babbled on and on.

“The sword on the mantle.” Jonas said when it seemed that the inquisitive lady had retreated to her mind for a moment. “Whose is it?”

Laying down his utensil, having finished his meal Harper looked at him with suspicion, as if he expected him to do something extreme, though Jonas wasn’t sure what that would have been, then the young man’s eyes went to the object in question for a second before moving to Jonas once more.

“It’s our father’s sword.” He replied.

“The design…” Jonas began to say but was cut off by Harper abruptly standing up from the table, making the legs of the chair scrape loudly on the stone floors before he was walking away, angrily.

It took a moment for the two remaining at the table to speak but when it happened it was Meg’s soft voice that came up.

“Our father, he was a Knight in service of King William of the Nevadas.” She explained. “He lost our mother when both Roy and I were young, so he retired and moved us up here. He died two winters ago, it has been hard for us both but more so for my brother.” She said, standing up from the table, a motion that he followed out of instinct. “Come on, I will show you to your room so you can rest.” She added with a sad smile.

A few minutes later Jonas was in the room appointed to him. It held two beds, far smaller than he had been used to years before, a small armoire and a few candles that were already lit. Meg had apologized for her brother’s reaction and had left him to his own devices, bidding him a soft and sad ‘good night, Jonas’ before disappearing out the door and closing the wooden barrier behind her.

Taking off his boots he laid on the bed, fully dressed, looking up at the ceiling. It wasn’t unheard of for knights to retire but the cases were uncommon. Then again both Roy and Meg looked about the right age for having been young at the time that the first uprising’s in the Nevadas. It would have made sense that the knight, having just lost his wife, would not have wanted to risk the rest of his family.

This was not what he had intended when he had made up his mind to get under his young warden’s skin… but he was too much of a bastard to think of apologizing. He WAS a monster, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, you can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr.  
> @Melmo2010 and https://www.tumblr.com/blog/melsanfo  
> Come say hi!


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